This morning is the Sunday of the Myrrh-bearing Women. I’m thinking about my home parish today as they celebrate their feast day. I’m currently at the Miller Coors distribution center in Golden, Colorado, picking up a heavy load of beer. I spent time carefully strapping everything down—load bars, tension straps, black plastic barriers—the works.
As I stepped back to inspect the job, I noticed something striking: the load bars and straps had formed the shape of a St. Andrew’s Cross, bold and unmistakable, right there in the back of the trailer. A strong X braced by a horizontal line—like a cross formed under tension.
And that got me thinking.
There’s something deeply spiritual about cargo securement. In fact, trucking has a way of preaching to me when I least expect it. That moment sparked a whole reflection on how we brace ourselves for the road ahead—not just with freight, but with faith
In trucking, if your load isn’t secured, it’s going to shift. It doesn’t matter how well-packed it looks on the dock—one hard turn, and you’ve got a mess. Maybe worse.
That’s why we use tools like straps, load locks, and barriers. They hold everything in place through the bumps and curves. They’re not optional—they’re essential.
The Orthodox life is the same way.
Prayer, fasting, confession, liturgy—these aren’t just religious rituals. They’re the spiritual securements that keep your soul from drifting. Without them, even a strong believer can slide into burnout, confusion, or sin. But with them, we’re held steady by something stronger than our own willpower.
You don’t wait until your freight’s on the floor to think about securement. And you shouldn’t wait until your life falls apart to build a prayer rule or go to confession.
I’ve seen what happens when a driver doesn’t brace the load—pallets busted, product lost, even injury. It’s always avoidable. But you only get one chance to secure things properly.
Faith works the same way. A lot of us (myself included) have had seasons where we only cry out to God after the storm hits. But Orthodoxy teaches us to prepare before the hardship comes—to build a rule of life, not just a fire escape.
A strong faith life is built in the quiet moments, not the crises. That’s when we strap things down—when we’re clear-headed and focused. Because when the tires start to slide, it’s too late to rethink your securement.
To someone who doesn’t understand trucking, those straps and barriers might look like limitations—like they’re pinning the freight in. But ask any experienced driver, and they’ll tell you: those securements protect the cargo. They don’t restrict it.
The same goes for Orthodoxy.
There’s a structure to this faith: fasting seasons, prescribed prayers, moral teachings. At first glance, it might look rigid. But just like straps keep your freight from toppling, Orthodox discipline keeps your soul from falling apart.
We don’t fast to be punished. We fast to be freed from what enslaves us. We confess not to feel shame, but to be healed. The structure is there not to trap us—but to hold us together. Now granted, we are in the Paschal season, So there is currently no fasting. However the idea is still the same.
As I looked at that heavy stack of beer behind the straps, I asked myself: What are we strapping down in our own lives?
Sometimes we’re busy bracing burdens that we shouldn’t even be carrying—like pride, resentment, fear, or worldly ambition. And then we wonder why our souls feel so heavy.
Christ says “My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” Matthew 11: 28. But if your load feels unbearable, maybe it’s time to check the manifest. Are you hauling something God never meant for you to carry?
It’s worth asking: what’s in your trailer? What are you spending all that energy trying to protect or secure… and is it even worth delivering?
One strap won’t hold a load like this. So I used barriers, straps, and a load lock bar. Each layer has its own job. Together, they make the whole system strong.
Our spiritual life needs the same.
Scripture, prayer, spiritual counsel, the sacraments, trusted community—each one supports the others. One might fail on a bad day. But all together? They form a stronghold.
I don’t trust a single strap to protect a load worth thousands of dollars. Why would I trust one Sunday a month, one liturgy streamed from the inside of my cab, one prayer a day, to protect my soul?
The road’s long. The weather’s unpredictable. The turns are sharp. But when your faith is properly secured, you can roll through just about anything.
Out here on the road, I’ve come to believe something: Christ is with me in the cab, at the docks, and yes—even at the fuel pumps or inside a dusty trailer in Golden, Colorado.
And every now and then, He speaks loud and clear through the simplest of things—like a cross made of straps and a lesson in freight securement.
We all carry something. The question is whether we’re carrying it wisely—and whether we’re braced for what’s ahead.
Secure your load. Lock in your faith.
Thanks for reading. Blessed feast, I hope you all are well.
– Orthodox Trucker
Orthodox Trucker 